


The Ballonlea Community Theater Presents...

by An_Old_Broken_Furby



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Bad Parenting, Beet | Bede-centric, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Gen, Grandparent Poplar | Opal, Mentor/Protégé, One Shot, Pokemon Worldbuilding, Reality TV, Song and Dance Number, Theater Puns, this is so silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23207842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/An_Old_Broken_Furby/pseuds/An_Old_Broken_Furby
Summary: There was something about wearing a cape and overacting while reciting Olde Galarian in front of a captive audience that awakened something deep and powerful inside Bede.
Relationships: Beet | Bede & Poplar | Opal
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	The Ballonlea Community Theater Presents...

Spoilers for events that take place in Hammerlocke shortly after beating the Ballonlea gym challenge (including describing a character’s outfit change that’s revealed after the Semi-Finals). Also, minor spoilers for an allusion to the photo used in Opal’s rare trainer card. 

[ Author’s Note : Because this is based on the games and not the anime, Pokemon scream instead of saying their names. While some of their sounds can’t be easily translated into human language, I tried my best to capture their spirit.]

#  **Chapter 1:** **Time 4 Train**

“Hello! You’ve reached the inbox of Chairman Rose. I’m currently away from my phone right now, busy trying to make Galar a better place to live, but your message is very important to me. Please leave your name and number, and my assistant Oleana will be happy to help.” 

“Mr. Chairman! I--”

_ The mailbox is full and cannot accept any messages at this time. Goodbye. _

Bede looked down at his phone in dismay: he’d left six messages already and  Oleana was obviously ignoring him. He paced around the train’s small compartment, debating whether he should try the chairman’s personal cell phone again in case Oleana cleaned up the inbox, before deciding to reach out to his office line. The chairman’s junior receptionist picked up. 

“Hello. This is Bede; I’d like to leave a message for the chairman… Bede… I’m his ward. The one he endorsed?... Yes, yes, I know, I’m in the news-- look, can you take this message or not?... Please tell the chairman that I had to miss the meeting he’d scheduled for us in Hammerlocke but I’m still endeavoring to help him in any way I can, and I’ll have some positive results shortly. If he could call me back… Yes, I know he’s a busy man,  _ Jessica _ , and as soon as I talk to him I’m going to let him know how dense you’ve -- Hello?”

Still feeling uneasy, he went back to the nook where Opal was seated. She’d fallen asleep almost instantly once they got on the train, but  cracked open a single eye as he sat back down. 

“I hope this means you’ll stop that pacing. It was disrupting my nap.”

“I had a very important call with the chairman…’s junior receptionist. But he should be calling me back any minute now.” 

“What in the world for?” she asked, irritably. “They’ve already taken your Challenge Band and registration-- do they want your coat back, too?”

“The chairman told me to wait for him in Hammerlocke, so they could figure out what to do with me. I can’t just not show up to a meeting and keep him waiting. Not the  _ chairman _ .” He’d never been late to a meeting before. What if the chairman didn’t receive his message in time; would he think he just stood him up? He fumbled around for his phone. “I should call again, just in case-- or maybe I should go back and tell him in person. If I get off at the next stop at Stow-on-Side, I can take the two o’clock-- no, two forty-five train back…”

She snorted, closing her eyes once more. “ Just leave things be, child. If he calls you, let me speak to him. I’ll tell him you’re working at my gym and can’t be bothered with this nonsense.”

It took a moment for Bede to break out of a stunned silence. “You do realize this is the chairman we’re talking about.”

She didn’t look particularly moved by that fact.“Keep worrying like that and you’re going to give me agita. Relax!”

He grudgingly switched to his phone’s internet. He hoped the chairman wasn’t too angry with him. ‘Disappointed’ had been the word he’d used, and that wasn’t much better.

He scrolled through the news feed and saw that the articles written about him were still spreading like G-Max: Wildfire, picking up thousands of views. “Marco Cosmos Employees Use Physical Force to Apprehend Hysterical Cherub.” “Sentient Dandelion Puff Destroys Historic Mural, Claims It Hid Magical Star Rocks That Will Save World.” “Unloved Orphan Personally Disqualified From Gym Challenge by Father Figure After Bizarre Cry for Attention.”

“I can’t believe--! Oh, the  _ nerve  _ of these idiots…” He muttered to himself, his fingers flying angrily across the screen. 

“Now what are you doing?” Opal asked, apparently giving up on her nap. She leaned forward and rested her head drowsily on her hands. 

“People are spreading hideous lies about me on the internet and I’m going to respond to each and every one of those morons and explain in exacting detail how they’re wrong before I report them for--”

“Are you normally this high strung?”

She... had a point. He was embarrassing himself, fretting like this. No, he needed to think things through logically. Of course the chairman wouldn’t be angry with him for ditching the meeting, once he heard the full story. And besides, he wasn’t even running away, after all. He was on a temporary training and research excursion. When the chairman would see him next, he’d be a much stronger trainer, and would be able to give him valuable new information about the wishing stars. Then the chairman would realize that he’d made a mistake, he wasn’t a disappointment, no, he was his most valuable asset, and would put him back in the competition before the semi-finals rolled around. He would crush everyone else, and then become the new champion, and Rose would take him to his skyrise office in Wyndon to finally tell him his true plan to save Galar. And then everyone would forget the stories online and would be cheering  _ his  _ name from the stands. 

“Ms. Opal. I just want to be absolutely certain we’re on the same page here,” he said, putting aside his phone and steepling his fingers, trying to reclaim some of the dignity he’d lost. “Once I pass your test, you’ll tell me everything you know about wishing stars-- correct?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she said, with a twinkle in her eye. “But it won’t be so easy, mind. You’ll have to work hard for it.”

“You do realize I was the top challenger before I was… temporarily removed. Hard work doesn’t scare me. In fact, given my talents, I’ll probably surpass you as a trainer by the end of the week.” 

She looked positively gleeful. “Is that so?”

Before long, the train pulled into Ballonlea station, a place that exists, and Opal slowly led them deeper into the town that had been nestled in a massive forest. Though Bede would never admit it to anyone, before the challenge sent him across the country, he’d actually never seen much of Galar. The caretakers at St. Arceus’s Home for Children Whose Parents are Definitely Coming Back occasionally took him and the other kids to the mines for on-site job training, and later, when the chairman signed the guardianship papers and enrolled him in boarding school, he got to live in Hammerlocke. But when they stepped foot in Ballonlea, he was completely taken aback by a town that looked like it was pulled from one of the more insufferable picture books from the orphanage, the one that was about a tacky magic princess forest where friendship gnomes and Butterfree fairies protected the environment from -- oh Arceus, this was  _ exactly  _ that town, wasn’t it. 

“This is a test. I’m being tested, but I’m going to win,” he muttered to himself, dusting glittery spores from his hair and coat and trying not to get distracted by the hideously glowing mutant fungus infestation. Ballonlea was not a particularly large city. There was an organic juicing cafe apparently frequented only by old hippies and people who had eccentric tastes in scarves, a boutique that specialized in handmade tye dye, and a pottery and painting studio. A person was playing the sitar outside, while another one did a sort of interpretive dance next to a Ludicolo. Some kids who were too old to not be in school chased after an Inkay, jumping over someone who was asleep in a flower patch. He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t any of you people have jobs?” 

“Nope! And once you become the gym leader, you’re going to be the face of this town in the eyes of all of Galar.” While Bede seriously reconsidered the course his life was rapidly taking, Opal waved him along. The gym loomed in the distance. 

At that time of day, the gym was already cleared out, and the uniform and ticket attendants had already left for the night. Opal led him to the Employees Only room, which was a maze of boxes overflowing with cheap costumes, sheet music, and set backgrounds of castles, villas, forests, and Pride Rock from Disney’s  _ The Litleo King _ . 

Bede shook his head. “Why am I not surprised this place is a dump.”

“Child, can you make me a cup of my wake-up tea while I look for a spare leader uniform? There’s a microwave in the back.”

There was an ancient microwave with a questionable stain baked on the glass front, with a few mugs that read “Dead in Yamper Years” scattered next to it. The cabinet next to it was empty aside from some packets of ketchup and a couple of Snapple bottles. 

“Where do you keep the tea?” he called out.

“There should be some in the cabinets. Right there-- you’re looking right at it!”

“...You mean the Snapple?”

“Yes, Snapple. Don’t you see the part that says ‘lemon tea?’” She regarded him oddly. “How can you call yourself Galarian and not know how to make a proper cup of tea? And don’t forget to add in a bit of my special wake-up ingredient. It’s been a long day.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s the ketchup.”

“Don’t be absurd! There should be a bottle of vodka in the back. Just splash a bit of that in-- a little more...there you go.” 

He poured a mug of Snapple and vodka and put it in the microwave. When it was done, Opal came over with a pastel psychedelic nightmare, like if Easter manifested into a psychical form and then died a gruesome death, hanging limply in her arms. 

He took one look at the uniform and felt a visceral fight-or-flight reaction, his eyes growing wide as he backed into the microwave. “I’m not wearing that.”

“That’s a shame,” she said, taking a sip from the warm mug of tea. “This uniform is my gym’s first test of spiritual fortitude. I thought you’d be able to pass it with flying colors since you were brave enough to wear your current outfit in public, but I suppose I was wrong. I guess it’s time for me to find a new successor with a bit more  _ pizazz _ .” 

Bede snatched the uniform and stormed off to the changing room. “I have pizazz -- I can show you pizazz!”

But there was little he could do to help the pink and mint nightmare, even when he tore apart his leggings and wore them on his arms for some deeply inexplicable reason.

“You wouldn’t happen to have another shirt, would you?” Bede asked as he left the room, glowering while Opal laughed at him outright. The shirt, which was really just a smaller version of Opal’s dress, hung past his knees. 

“No, I’m afraid that’s all we have. It’s been a while since we’ve gotten new members of the gym,” she admitted. “Now, I understand it can be intimidating for new members to join an established gym, especially since you’re going to have to throw out your disgusting, inferior Psychic specialization like the rubbish it is. But I don’t tolerate hazing or people picking on less experienced trainers so you won’t have to worry-- ”

“Please. I can handle myself with or without my Pokemon. Before the chairman gave me Hattena, I used to hold my own in fistfights all the time. I’m very tough,” Bede said, struggling to pull up his shirt and tie it into a bow. 

When they went on the field, he was surprised to find himself before a group that could’ve feasibly been the local chapter of the Galar Quilting Society, or the target audience for taped theater performances at movie theaters, or the kinds of people who escaped from nursing homes after a series of screwball misadventures and were trying to live out their last days of freedom before getting carted back by security. In other words, they were like fifty, which was fine, since he didn’t really get along well with people his own age, anyways. 

“This is Bede. I found him abandoned and alone and looking quite pitiable during my walks about Galar,” Opal announced to the group, while Bede basked in the spotlight beside her and tried not to wince at her introduction. “ He’s going to be my successor, as he’s just dripping in pink.”

“Wow, I can see that!”

“An excellent eye for pink as always, Opal.”

“I can tell he’s a sweet, kind boy who’ll be easy to get along with.”

“I think I recognize him from the news,” one of the women said, squinting with uncertainty. “Isn’t he that gym challenger who hated art so much he blew up a mural and got disqualified? Sorry if I’m being a bit harsh, but I’m not really sure if that’s the kind of press we want for our gym.”

“I know that was probably the Altzheimers setting in, but in case you forgot, the person who calls the shots around here is Ms. Opal,” Bede snipped, crossing his arms. “I’m sure she’s capable of making her own decisions without your input, Random Trainer Number 4.”

“Such a delightful child,” Opal said, nodding with approval. Her expression then turned icy. “And Annette, that mural was hideous and deserved to be erased from existence. If you can’t see why destroying it was the most pink thing in the world, I don’t think you belong in this gym. That’s all I have to say, everyone; don’t stop training on our account!”

  
Bede started to follow the other trainers to where they’d been practicing mock battles, when he felt an iron vice on his shoulder. 

  
“Where do you think you’re going, child?” Opal asked, with an evil glint in her eye.

#  **Chapter 2: Time 4 Train...ing**

Evening began to roll in, causing the automatic stadium lights to flicker on and cast stark shadows across the field. From their secluded corner, Opal was an imperious figure set against the harsh light. 

“Most gyms only focus on battling, but I expect all my trainers to also be a deadly sharp pink. Standard training involves mock battles, researching local myths and legends, bonding with your pokemon, et cetera. But since you’re to be the next gym leader, your training will be a bit… different.” 

Bede did not like the look she gave him. 

“A gym leader must be able to think on their feet,” Opal continued, tying a whistle around her neck. She tossed a pokeball, and a Clefable popped out. 

“Eeep eeeeep!”

“So, we’re going to have you do some quiz prep.”

Bede wasn’t sure what the point of the Clefable was, but he wasn’t too concerned about the challenge-- it was well known that Opal liked her quizzes, and he excelled at tests. “I’ll have you know, I was the top student at the Galaran School for Battle Children. I doubt any of your questions will stump me.”

“My, those are big words! I hope this won’t be too boring for you, then.” Her Look intensified. “First question: what was the first pokemon I received in a random trade?”

“...Excuse me?”

“You have five seconds to answer.”

“What? I don’t know-- Magikarp?”

“Wrong.”

“How am I supposed to know this? This isn’t academic in the slightest--”

Opal cut him off with a sharp blow from her whistle, and the next instant, Clefable aimed a moonblast straight at him. He had to leap out of the way, ducking as a spray of plastic grass and the little black bits of astroturf flew from the impact.

“ARE YOU  _ MAD _ ?”

“Next question,” Opal continued calmly. “What was my fondest memory as a child?”

“What--?”

She blew the whistle once more. 

Things continued like that for the rest of the evening-- when Opal had finally called it quits, Bede had guessed a single, solitary question correctly and looked like he’d just barely survived trench warfare. Clefable, oblivious that she had been his personal tormentor for the past hour, went over to him for an ear scratch, which he very grudgingly gave after he could feel another moonbeam charging. 

“You’ll need to work on those scores,” Opal sniffed. “I don’t know what they teach you children nowadays.”

Bede stared at her with a haunted expression. 

“Well, we can’t waste precious moonlight! Your next challenge is Capture the Flag with that pack of Impidimps back in the forest. I took the liberty of giving them your phone earlier today, and your objective is to get it back with nothing but a poke toy of your choice.” Bede’s expression grew even more desperate, which Opal regarded with glee. “You’ve got to think like a fairy to train fairies!”

The rest of Fairy Bootcamp went downhill from there: improv comedy, witnessing the true form of Mimikyu, topped off with a deeply uncomfortable group crying session with the rest of the trainers that Bede didn’t even pretend to take part in. By the end of it all, he couldn’t look at anyone the same way again and wondered if he could go back to the simpler days of hanging out in mines fighting people for rocks. 

“Good work today, everyone,” Opal said, as everyone packed up. “See you tomorrow. Annette, if I could speak with you for a moment about exterminating those horrible Chinchous mobbing the gym entrance-- they’re confusing the aesthetic…”

Some of the trainers went over to him, smiling with encouragement, as though the weird-ass group cry had never occurred.

“I could see you had some trouble today, but you put in a really good effort, dear.”

“You remind me so much of my grandson. He, too, struggled a bit at this gym-- not everyone can easily get the hang of fairy types. Here, let me show you some of my pictures of him…”

“It’s Felting Friday down at the local patisserie; we all usually stop by after practice to ‘spill some tea’ as you youths would say. Would you care to join us?”

It had taken all of his self-restraint not to scream. “Thanks, but I’m busy working on a private assignment from Chairman Rose himself, and I can’t afford to waste time with you distinguished individuals on  _ Felting Fridays _ , as exciting as that sounds-- and, for the record, I was only pretending to struggle because I didn’t want to embarrass the lot of you on my first day.” 

Bede rushed to grab his coat and escaped as soon as he could. Opal could pop out from the shadows at any second and wasn’t in the mood for another impromptu quiz and he  _ really  _ didn’t like how the Clefable lurked by the back door, looking for him. But when he left the gym and found himself back in that ridiculous fairytale town, he realized he had nowhere to go. He couldn’t exactly show his face at the local challenger hostel, and whether or not there was any kind of inn in town… He checked his wallet and crossed that off the list, regardless. Until he could beat up some trainers for money, he had his Marco Cosmos-issued tent, since they’d forgotten to take that when they took everything else from him. 

He set out for the forest, but the moment he stepped foot in it, roughly eight sets of unblinking Impidimp eyes stared back at him from the hazy shadows, and he could hear more snickering and the sounds of their horrible little rat feet running further off. After checking to make sure he still had his phone, he marched right back to the gym. Behind the stadium, in the back by the parking lot, there was some grassy space to set up camp. 

After a long battle, he was just about to finish detangling one of the tent’s zippers from his hair when a shadow passed over him. 

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Opal said. “What in Galar are you doing back here?”

“I’m setting up camp,” he said, between struggling with the tent poles. Just as he managed to stick one of the posts in the ground, another one pulled out, and the whole thing collapsed on top of him. “Obviously.”

“Looks like it’s going well.”

“Hilarious as always, Ms. Opal. Naturally, I wouldn’t be doing something so undignified, but Macro Cosmos cut off my credit card, and I can’t go to the challenger hostels because, well. You know,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Don’t be ridiculous! I’m not about to have my protege sleeping in the gym parking lot. You’ll stay in the spare bedroom at home. Now clean all this up, or I’m going to miss my show, at this rate. I absolutely cannot miss a single episode of Spikemuth’s Sickest Beats!”

He paused in shoving the tent back into its bag. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding, child? Try to keep up!” she called back, before breaking out into one of her infamous Naruto sprints. 

Opal lived on the outskirts of Ballonlea, in an ivy-coated mansion nestled between the roots of one of the massive trees. She shooed away some of the Chinchous that had flocked around the wrought-iron gates and led him inside. A massive Chandelure slept in the walkway, casting the house in a moody violet light. All throughout the house were theater memorabilia of a much younger, black-haired Opal. There were newspaper clippings, signed headshots, costumes kept frozen in time from behind sealed displays. Hanging from ornate frames were posters of earlier productions she’d starred in:  _ The Taming of the Sandshrew _ ,  _ Waiting for Gogoat _ ,  _ Pyg-malamar-ion _ ,  _ The Glass Pkmn Box, Meowths _ . In the living room, a Galarian Weezing floated in the fireplace, ingesting the smoke coming from the smoldering flames, while a Togekiss dozed on the couch nearby. More fairy pokemon revealed themselves from their hiding spots in the bookcases and under the stairs, and happily jumped to attention when Opal came in. The whole house smelled aggressively like years-old lavender candies that had stuck to the bottom of the serving jar. 

“The guest room is just upstairs, on the right. I’d show you around, but Spikemuth’s Sickest Beats is just about to start.You can watch, too, if you’d like.”

“I’ll pass. I have very important research--”

“On wishing stars for the chairman, yes, we know.”

He frowned at the interruption. “Well, do you have any books on them?” 

“I had a feeling you’d ask me, so I went ahead and left them in the guest room while you were in the forest. Now where did I put the remote…?” she said, and drifted off for the shadowy living room. 

The guest room, t o his utter horror, was filled with nothing but Mr. Mime-themed antiques and tchotchkes. He scowled at the painting hung right above the bed of a sailor-suit- wearing Mr. Mime licking a Vanillish, before tossing his coat aside. At least unpacking would be easy, he thought, with a wan smile. But there was one thing. He unfolded the cherished, well-worn letter he’d always kept in his coat pocket. The Marco Cosmos seal pressed in the upper corner glinted weakly in the light. 

Hello **Bepe** ,

We’re so happy that you’re joining the Marco Cosmos® team as a/an **Endorsed Gym Challenger** ! As a token of our appreciation, please enjoy this complimentary Marco Cosmos® Gym Challenger Jacket, and matching Marco Cosmos® Gym Challenger Tabi Sneakers-- both in the exclusive Magenta Magic colors not yet available to the public! 

As a/an **Endorsed Gym Challenger** , we hope you’ll wear the uniform with a sense of pride and belonging, and know that you serve no small role in making Galar a better, safer place to live. 

Here at Marco Cosmos ®, I see you as more than just an employee-- you’re part of the  Marco Cosmos ® family.  I can’t wait to witness all that we accomplish together! 

Regards,

Chairman Rose

He remembered the day when the headmaster had called him up to her office to tell him that he was receiving an official endorsement from the chairman himself. It was the talk of the entire school, mostly because people thought he’d made up the part about being adopted by the chairman as a sad ploy for attention since the chairman had never shown up to any parent teacher conferences and left him on campus during the holidays and never communicated with him once throughout the five years Bede had lived there full-time. 

“And see-- you can tell it’s not a stamp because of the smudges over here. That means the chairman signed it himself,” he told the secretary, who let him eat lunch in the office every afternoon after he’d gotten kicked out of the teacher’s lounge. “He only does that for really important letters, since he’s so busy.”

“Very interesting,” she said, from behind her computer. 

“I’ve also been personally selected to help the chairman with his top project,” he said, taking a bite of his chicken nugget. “His executive assistant called me herself. I can’t tell you what it is, though, since it’s completely confidential. Not even the  _ champion  _ knows about it.”

“Very interesting,” she said, from behind her computer. 

That project, of course, had been to find the wishing stars, though he hadn’t been told why he needed to find them beyond the fact that they’d help save Galar from catastrophe, if there was a powerful enough trainer to use them. He folded the letter back up and kept it on his nightstand, tucked underneath a ceramic figure of a Mr. Mime riding a unicycle and holding a string of Driflooms. He couldn’t get distracted by the gym challenge. He had to find out more about the wishing stars. 

On the desk in the room was a large stack of books Opal had mentioned she’d pulled aside. That was oddly nice of her-- not that he needed the help, of course. He picked up the first one:

_ Fishing Stars: Notable Names in Feebas Fishing. _

He frowned and put it aside. Opal was ancient, after all, and probably could barely see the title. But then read the other ones on the stack:

_Wish Upon a Star: A Psychoanalytical Exploration of Disney’s Princesses_. _Phishing Wars_. _The Encyclopedia of Staryu Breeds._ _A Star is Born ft. Lady Gaga: The Novelization. Star Light, Star Bright and Other Rhymes for Stupid Babies._

He narrowed his eyes and stormed out of the room. 

“What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded, stomping down the steps. “Those books in my room-- are you  _ mocking  _ me?”

But his voice could barely carry over the hot trackz dropping from the TV. 

“What?” Opal called out, from her spot on the couch. She was eating from a bowl of popcorn, occasionally tossing some to the pokemon that were watching along with her. “I can’t hear you-- my show’s on!”

“I said, are you--” 

“What?”

He crossed his arms, huffing in indignation, and glanced at the TV. A group of Team Yell and Team Skull members were in a fist fight in a parking lot. “What even  _ is  _ this?” 

“Babylinda, that’s the young lady with the mean left hook, just heard Queen G perform in front of the judges and accused her of copping her flow. Which was bad enough, but last episode Queen G had also kissed her then boyfriend, DJ Beyond Birthday, when they were taking a break, but it wasn’t an  _ official  _ break. Their relationship is very hashtag it’s complicated.”

Despite himself, Bede laughed a bit when Babylinda hit Queen G on the head with a pokeball. “This is such rubbish.”

“I know, right?”

A bewear quickly broke up the fight, carrying the contestants back into the studio before a panel of judges: Piers, Guzma, and a very confused looking Loudred.

Piers: What is this, Bea’s gym challenge? If the two a’ you got beef, take it out on the turntables, got it? Queen G, I just couldn’t feel the fiery rocking spirit in that set. My soul just wasn’t weepin’, you feel?

Guzma: What the [Pika!] you talkin about? She [Pika!]-ing delivered, man! We gonna need some burn heals up in this joint because that set was straight  _ fire _ ! Queen G, ignore this joker-- he calls himself a singer but I ain’t hear a damn word come out his mouth when he performs. 

Piers (sighing): I’m not gettin’ into this with you again.

Guzma: Oh, what-- you can’t take the heat? I can do this all day! I’m the hated boss who beats you down, and beats you down, and never lets up--

Piers: Here we go. 

Guzma: And you ain’t nothin but a one-star wooper livin in a five-star world! This is why you can’t trust the Establishment, Queenie. Ya boy Guzma knows what it’s like to hustle, while this  _ gym leade _ r over here aint nothin’ but a sell out. 

Piers (pulling out a switchblade):  _ You take that back _ . 

Loudred (distressed by the shouting): Ughhhuhh?

There was a brief pause while Piers and Guzma fought it out in the parking lot, before the show returned to the stage once more. The results were still deadlocked, but the increasingly overwhelmed Loudred ended up being the tiebreaker by going on a rampage and causing the teleprompters to accidentally announce that Hot Bolly was the winner this week even though he hadn’t performed, and the producers just sort of went with it. 

“Good choice. I like his spunk!” Opal said, approvingly.

“This contest is a farce,” Bede said, now comfortably on the couch, shoveling a handful of popcorn in his mouth. “Babylinda was the clear winner, despite Queen G and DJ BB trying to conspire together and take her down. Those judge’s must’ve been hit with a super effective confuse ray. I’ve never seen such a lack of taste in my life.” 

She cast him a sideways glance. “Those certainly are bold words coming from someone who wears toe shoes.”

Announcer: Tickets are now on sale for the finale match held at this year’s Barboachella, where there’ll be guest performances by Cosplay Pikachu in a popstar outfit, Beyonce, and our very own Piers! One lucky guest will get to join as a guest judge and crown Galar’s top DJ-- we hope to see you there!  Terms and conditions may apply. 

“If only those tickets weren’t so expensive,” Opal mused. “Oh, well. Want to start from the first episode?”

“Yes. But really, they should just go ahead and invite me as the guest judge; I don’t know if you’re aware, but I have a superb ear for music. Have you  _ heard  _ my battle theme? It’s easily the best out of everyone’s. Wait, let me just pull it up on my phone-- turn this on mute for a second.”

“Where is that? Can’t I just turn the volume down?” She began to turn the volume down one increment at a time. 

“I mean, you can just hit one button, instead of-- Ok, here it is.”

An ad immediately started playing: “Come on down to the South Kansas Reception Hall for all your reception needs! We do weddings, train shows, quinceaneras--”

“This is your theme?”

“Of course not. They play ads before the video now, which is so annoying. It should be coming on right now-- oh, come on, a second one?”

“BUY BLUE SELL GREEN AT ALOLAN PERSIAN INVESTMENTS--” 

“While you’re working on that, I’m going to turn the sound up in case the show comes back on.”

“Wait, just give me a sec!”

#  **Chapter 3: The Creation of a Monster**

Training started to fall into a sort of routine for Bede-- a horrifying routine, but a routine nonetheless. His team was growing stronger by the day, he could look at Mimikyu’s true form for about fifteen seconds before having an existential panic attack, and he hated how much better he was getting at guessing correctly on Opal’s chaos quizzes. At the end of each day, she’d leave him with a stack of tomes on fairy types and have him study under the watchful eye of Clefable while she returned to the gym with the other trainers. That is, until one day, she told him to come with her. 

“Do you have any hobbies, child?” she asked innocently enough, locking the gate to the practice field behind her. 

“IS THIS ANOTHER QUIZ?” He jumped to attention, looking wildly around for Clefable. 

“Honestly, you should listen to yourself,” she said, chuckling. “I meant, what did you do for fun before you came here?”

He tried to smooth down his hair and regain his composure. “I was one of the chairman’s most important confidants; I didn’t have time for anything except furthering his goals. I mean, ‘don’t’-- I still don’t have time. I’m still important.”

“How boring!” Opal exclaimed, taking him aback. “People who only focus on work are one-dimensional and incredibly un-pink. You need to broaden your horizons! I have just the thing that’ll help you reach your pink potential.”

He was beginning to deeply fear the pink potential. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

She led him to the gym’s stage, where the other trainers were busy... painting sets of trees and castles and sewing together what could maybe pass as costumes if you squinted. 

“Don’t tell me you actually put on plays, yourselves,” he said, narrowing his eyes . “I thought you rented out the stage to keep this place running.”

“Every year, the Ballonlea gym puts on a production for the community, as a way of giving back,” she said. “This year we’re performing one of Shakespearow’s classics:  _ Hamlet and Juliet's Twelfth Mid-Snom-mer’s Night Dream _ . Are you familiar with it?” 

“Of course,” he lied.

Opal seemed to see right through him. “The story begins with Grimmsnarl, the king of fairies, attempting to play a trick on queen Florges by slipping her a potion that would increase her friendship with the first person she saw, whom he planned to be Youngster Joey. But his servant accidentally uses the potion on Juliet, a Snom who’d disguised herself as her brother to escape their mean trainer, Fortenbras. She ends up becoming friendly towards a sleeping Hamlet during his quest to catch his father, the king of Denmark, who had been murdered and became a Haunter. We’re currently looking for actors to fill the titular lead roles.” 

“I see. Naturally, you’ll want me to be Hamlet, then.”

There was that twinkle in her eye again. “Oh, no, this theater practices blind casting. Everyone, pokemon or human, gets a fair shot at any of the roles. I was just thinking your Hattrem would make a splendid Hamlet and was hoping I could see her give it a try. Which, of course, means you will be Juliet.”

He stared at her. “Juliet is a Snom.”

“Use your imagination, child! Here, we have costumes you two can put on to get into the roles. Annette, can you stop complaining about your divorce for one second and bring them out for them?”

Hamlet’s costume was a little plastic crown. The costume for Juliet, on the other hand, was a white sheet with some blue party hats attached to it. 

“It’s still a work in progress, but I think they suit you both,” Opal said, sitting down in the director’s chair and clearly struggling to keep a straight face. “Now, places everyone! Hattrem, if you could start with the monologue beginning with, ‘To faint, to sleep -- to sleep, perchance to cast TM24: Snore…’”

Hattrem nodded and took a steadying breath, before finding her spot in the script. “Ohwoooo wooo wooooooo…”

She continued like that for the rest of the monologue. Bede looked Opal straight in the eye the entire time, but she held firm and didn’t laugh, occasionally nodding as though one part (“wooooo wo woooooo”) particularly moved her. When Hattrem had apparently got to the last line, she looked hopefully at him for his cue. He opened his mouth to start his lines, but Opal immediately cut him off. 

“I’m sorry, I just wasn’t aware Snom were so tall. I’d like to keep this play grounded in an element of realism, thank you.”

His glare darkened as he slowly got down on his hands and knees. 

“Much better. Carry on.”

“Skreee scree screeee-- Forget it; this is ridiculous!” he snapped, when everyone broke out into laughter. He stood back up, nearly tripping over his costume.

Opal wiped away a tear. “Oh, lighten up, child! Theater is supposed to be fun.” 

He rolled up the script and jutted it at her. “I may be at my lowest, but I  _ refuse  _ to make a mockery of myself! Wait until the chairman hears that you’ve been wasting gym resources putting on these asinine productions! He’ll be  _ furious _ ; he’ll probably shut this whole operation down and send you to the minor leagues. You should be thankful he’s not answering any of my calls because I’d ring him up this instant if--”

He felt tugging at his costume. Hattrem looked sadly up at him, offering her crown. 

“Don’t tell me you actually want us to continue with this… this farce?”

“Owooo?” She wrapped the edge of the sheet around her like a shawl. “Wooo?”

“So, you’re telling me you think I’d make a good Hamlet, and we should trade roles?” She nodded so emphatically he couldn’t help but smile, and took the crown from her. “Your Juliet is almost as good as mine, so I suppose it  _ would  _ be a waste to let our talents go unseen. And we can’t leave these hacks to make an embarrassment of themselves; it’d reflect badly on the whole gym challenge, and possibly even the chairman… Fine.” He turned back to Opal. “I’ll stay,  _ esteemed director _ , but on the condition I get to play Hamlet. And I get to wear a cape.” 

“Child, this may be a theater, but I’m going to need you to turn the dramatics down to a seven,” Opal said, massaging her forehead. “Very well, you can have a cape; there should be one in the back. Ok, let’s start from Act 2. And this time, with  _ feeling _ !”

Bede cleared his throat. “My dear Juliette: what is a man, if his chief good and market of his time, be but to embark on a journey in the new Denmark region, exclusively on the Nintendo Switch? A Pokemon, no more…”

There was something about wearing a cape and overacting while reciting Olde Galarian in front of a captive audience that awakened something deep and powerful inside Bede. He threw himself into his role as Hamlet, practicing his lines between quiz questions and wearing his cape and crown full-time (“It’s called  _ method acting _ , Annette; look it up.”). Each evening, after catching up on back episodes of Spikemuth’s Sickest Beats, he had Opal play some of the VHS tapes of her past performances and read her copies of Shakespearow just before bed, making corrections in the margins on how each play could be improved, in his humble opinion. He even joined in the next Felting Friday and helped the other gym members sew some of the costumes. Before long, he’d promoted himself to the assistant director, to the gradual dismay of Opal.

“Ms. Opal, I noticed that there aren’t any jazz hands in the big dance number, and I believe that’s a crime against the institution of theater itself. Now, if I could show you my revisions to the choreography…”

“Ms. Opal, I’ve been practicing my acceptance speech in case I win the Galarian Tony for Best Human Actor; could I run it by you for any feedback…?”

“Ms. Opal, I know it says that Hamlet dies at the end of his battle with Fortenbras, but if I could make a suggestion, perhaps Hamlet should, in fact, win at everything at the end…”

“Ms. Opal, I have another request,” Bede said before rehearsal one day. Gothorita and Duosion trailed behind him, looking nervous. 

Opal gave such a long sigh that she looked wilted by the end of it. “What is it now?”

“You’ve made it abundantly clear I’m to only fight with pink Pokemon during battles. But I’m not about to toss Gothorita and Duosion aside like rubbish just because someone arbitrarily decides they don’t serve a use anymore! If they can’t participate in the gym challenge, I demand that they have a role in the play.”

Opal blinked, genuinely surprised, before addressing the two Pokemon warmly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you two feel left out. I’m afraid we don’t have any more available roles, but Gothorita, would you like to help out with costuming and makeup? You seem like a creative young lady. I love what you did with your hair.”

“Priii riii!”

“And Duosion, I… Well, you’re a fetus, but I’m sure you can manage complicated technical systems that require fine motor skills. You can be our head of sound and lighting.”

“Blubppppp!”

“Go on, you two; you’ve got a lot of work ahead of you,” Bede said, watching them fondly as they ran off to terrorize the other trainers. He then noticed Opal was regarding him with an inscrutable expression. “What’s that look for?”

“That was actually nice of you.” 

“‘Actually?’ I take offense to that. My presence is  _ always  _ an unparallelled delight.” But even he couldn’t keep a straight face on that one, and they both burst out laughing because let’s be real here. 

#  **Chapter 4: Bede and the Wishing Star**

“All right,” Opal called out, from her director’s chair. “My assistant director has brought to my attention the fact that you all have been practicing a new version of the big musical number that, in his words, ‘elevates Shakespearow’s work from mere pageantry into Art touched by the divine.’ Well, I’ll be the judge of that. Let’s see what you’ve put together!”

“Ok, just do what we’ve been doing in rehearsal.” Bede flipped his cape, glancing back at the rest of the ensemble. “Try to keep up, ladies! And a one, two, three, four!”

_ I will travel across the land _

_ Searching far and wide. _

_ My ghost dad will understand _

_ His brother stole his wife! _

_ Juliet! Gotta catch my dad! _

_ It's you and me, _

_ To be or not to be! _

_ Juliet! Oh, you're my best friend, _

_ It’s Denmark we must defend! _

_ Juliet! Gotta catch my dad! _

_ A heart so true, _

(Hattrem): _ Owoooo wo wo woo woo wooo! _

_ Fortenbras will not find you, _

_ Jul-li-et! _

_ Gotta catch my dad! Gotta catch my dad! Juliet! _

Everyone hit their final poses and did jazz hands under the bright lights of the stage. 

“Excellent! Marvellous work, everyone! That was simply superb!” Opal said, clapping, while everyone gave each other high fives. “We’ll go with this version for the final performance. Take five, and we’ll pick up at Act Three. Annette, if I could have a word with you about your denture fittings; whenever you hit those fortissimo notes I get the most awful waft…”

Bede was basking in the praise of the other trainers when suddenly his phone went off. Oleana’s name flashed across the screen, so he quickly excused himself, his heartbeat racing. Was she calling to let him know that he was going to be let back into the competition? Did the chairman want to speak with him, himself? He tried to tamp down his nerves, to sound as calm and professional as possible. Hattren gave him a reassuring, but oddly threatening headbutt against his leg. 

“Hello, Oleana. This is Bede.”

“Hello, Pete. I wanted to call and tell you that even though you took today off for your anniversary, I’m still expecting those expense reports by end of business tonight--” 

“No,  _ Bede _ . With a ‘B.'” When she fell silent, he pinched the bridge of his nose and added, “Did you call the wrong number?”

“It appears I’ve accidentally called the runaway. How interesting.”

He blinked at her sharp tone. “Runaway? Is that how the chairman sees me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. The chairman may have forgotten all about you and the meeting regarding your expulsion, but it doesn’t mean I have.” He could practically feel her growing, prickly irritation like a physical force. “The  _ gall _ of you. Do you ever stop and think about where you’d be if Rose hadn’t saved you from that orphanage? He’d given you that Hattena, the finest education in the country, a personal endorsement that put his reputation at stake, and for what, exactly? An incompetent, ungrateful brat who’s too cowardly to own up to his own mistakes.”

“I-- there’s been a misunderstanding; it’s not that way at all,” he said in a rush, trying to fit in what he had to say before her words could really sink in. “I was hoping to clarify things with the chairman about that. I know I’ve messed up, so I’ve been training under the Ballonlea gym, and I’m trying to learn more about the wishing stars. I can still help him save Galar--”

“I don’t have time for this conversation,” she snapped. “I will say this, however: the chairman is a genius. Some of his ideas will go on to change Galar forever. But for each of his accomplishments, there are thousands of little failures that helped him pave the way. Deciding to raise you was one of those little failures. The best thing you can do for him at this point, if you truly care about him, is to move out of the way to let better ideas flourish.” 

And with that, she hung up.

He didn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. 

“There you are! What are you doing just standing out there?” Opal began, stepping outside. She noticed his expression and her eyes flashed down to his phone. “Ah. So they decided to call back, after all.”

“What? No. It was just a telemarketer, wasting my time,” he said, shutting it off. “I was just about to report them to the FTC. What is it that you want?”

She didn’t seem entirely convinced, but continued. “Well, we just got a gym challenger, so we’re clearing off the stage. I think you’ve made a lot of progress these past couple of weeks, so I’d like for you to be the last round of the gym challenge before he faces me.”

“Good. I’m looking forward to a battle.” He stalked back into the gym. “You might as well save everyone the time and put me first. He’s not getting past me.”

Bede waited backstage, brooding in the shadows while the other trainers took their turns at battling the challenger. He didn’t even bother watching for strategies.

“You’re up next. Watch out-- this challenger is a tough one,” the trainer before him said, flashing him a thumbs up. “Good luck!”

“Like I need your luck,” he muttered, walking onto the stage as his cape fluttered dramatically behind him. Opal was in the audience, watching. He regarded the other trainer, who was roughly eight years old, with open disdain. “Are  _ you  _ supposed to be the challenger?”

“Uh huh! My name’s--”

“I don’t care. Now for your question: what contestant did I root for last week on my favorite TV show, Spikemuth’s Sickest Beats?”

“I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to watch that because it’s got bad words in it.”

“Pathetic,” Bede said, his mouth curling into a sneer. “You’ve got to be the densest trainer we’ve faced yet, and you have the nerve to show your face here. I’ll make this quick, for your sake. Turn on my battle theme!” 

After a minute of technical difficulties, Duosion managed to get the stereo systems working and started blasting it. 

“Go, Ponyta-- show this simpering idiot how useless he really is!”

Ponyta charged ahead out of her pokeball. “Nerrrr!”

The challenger might have had a fighting shot, but Bede had his team fight brutally, viciously-- the challenger’s Gurdurr, Cubchoo, and Shiinotic were knocked out with a cold efficiency, one after another. When he switched out his last pokemon-- a Diggersby that immediately belched when released-- Bede sighed. 

“I really shouldn’t be wasting my dear Hattrem’s time like this, but this is something you need to see. Behold the difference in our power!” 

“Owoooo!” Hattrem cried, releasing a psybeam. 

Diggersby tried to dodge, but Hattrem immediately followed up with a second beam that hit him squarely in his chest. 

“Go for the kill, Hattrem,” Bede said softly. “Play. Rough.”

The challenger’s eyes widened and tried to cry out a countermove, but it was too late: Hattrem started punching the Diggersby in the face until the man-rabbit could barely hold itself weakly from the floor. With the stoicism of a battle-hardened warrior, she picked its limp body up and threw it to the other end of the stage, where it still clung to 1 HP. 

“Urrrrrp!” 

“Diggersby!” The challenger cried. “Wait, stop! We give up!”

Hattrem looked back at Bede, clearly upset. 

He wrapped his cape around himself imperiously, smirking. “Fine, I’ll show you mercy this time. I wouldn’t want Hattrem to waste another move on the likes of you, anyways.”

“Oh, Diggersby…” The challenger returned the man-rabbit to his pokeball, and Bede could see the faint glint of light reflecting off his cheeks. 

“Wow. Are you seriously crying right now?” Bede sneered, returning an uneasy Hattrem to her pokeball with a flourish of his cape. “I feel sorry for your Pokemon for having to be seen with such a pathetic trainer. And you honestly thought  _ you  _ were fit to be Champion? Quit putting your team through the embarrassment and withdraw from the competition already. Or, on second thought, they’d be better off released into the wild so someone with a shred of talent could catch them instead--”

“Bede, that’s enough,” Opal said sharply. “Apologize to this child. And you and I need to have a word.”

The trainer continued to cry, putting his team back in his backpack. Bede rolled his eyes and started heading off the stage. “Sorry for destroying you like that in front of everyone. Though really, I did you a favor. At least now you know for sure you’re not who the chairman wants.”

He pushed past the curtains, where all of the trainers had been watching the match. More than a few of them muttered amongst themselves, shaking their heads.

“That wasn’t very pink-- more like a deep, angry red,” Annette said, as he walked backstage and dumped his cape to the ground. “Don’t you think you took things a little too far?” 

“Don’t you have a bankruptcy hearing to worry about?” he asked, mimicking her voice. “Clear off, Annette.” 

He stormed out of the gym and waited by the front door; he didn’t want Opal to think he was a  _ coward _ , after all. He could handle her Clefairy, or two minutes in front of the Mimikyu, or whatever other horrible punishment she had in store for him. He paused. No, she’d probably throw him out of the gym. He’d seen her when she was her usual cranky self, and that was something else entirely. There was no way she was letting him stay after that. And then where would he go? The question stopped him in his tracks. Where else did he have? The chairman wouldn’t want to see him; Oleana made that abundantly clear. He wouldn’t be able to go back to the academy, not when there wasn’t anyone paying the tuition. And besides, he didn’t think he could bear returning an utter failure. He could get a pokejob, pay for a hotel room, and… do what, exactly? Once again, everything had gone wrong, crumbling down all around him, and he had absolutely nothing left. 

Suddenly, overhead, a wishing star streaked across the night sky, leaving behind a faint trace of light. It was far too low. He could see where it gracefully arced into the forest, blinking out of sight. It probably crashed deep inside, far from the town or any of the crowds. 

He could probably find it. 

He took off as quickly as he could, trying to keep its trajectory imprinted on his mind’s eye. That stone was his only way out of the nothingness of a future he found himself facing. If he claimed it, he could bring it to the chairman and prove that he wasn’t a failed idea, that his faith in him wasn’t misplaced, that if he had a second chance he’d do whatever-- anything-- it was that would make the chairman happy and he wouldn’t disappoint him ever again. Oleana was lying; the chairman couldn’t have forgotten him so easily, he was a kind, intelligent, reasonable leader and he’d hear him out. He’d reached out a hand to him when he had nothing before all those years ago, and he’d reach out again. Bede pushed through the small crowd milling around the town square for the hemp festival, desperately watching them to see if anyone else had noticed the fallen star-- if they had, he’d fight them for it, and he’d win. But no one else seemed to have noticed, or if they had, didn’t care. The forest was silent. Even the Impidimps stayed out of his way. 

He stumbled around breathlessly, frantically lost, running into dead ends and falling over tree roots that twisted like Sandacondas underfoot. The forest had a way of getting into your head during the best of times, and he often found himself following after glowing lights that disappeared once he caught up with him, leaving him alone in a dark clearing. He pushed on. The forest looped around him, sending him in circles, leading him astray. Time passed-- seconds, hours, years, he didn’t know-- but he pushed on. He couldn’t afford not to. 

And deep in the forest, smoke trailed out of a blasted crater. At its heart was the star. He stood at the edge, watching it glint softly in the weak starlight. But he couldn’t bring himself to move. 

“Goodness, child, you’re lucky I just had my wake-up tea or I wouldn’t be able to keep up,” Opal said, slowly walking into view. “When I saw that wishing star fall, I thought that’d be the last I saw of you.”

Bede said nothing. Opal came to stand by him and peered down at the crater. 

“Well, look at the size of that one! It must’ve sensed a particularly strong wish coming from you.”

He was quiet for a moment. 

“I know I’ve failed the chairman,” he finally admitted. “And I don’t deserve his kindness. I should be grateful for this chance to redeem myself and repay him for everything he’s done for me. But I can’t stop thinking about what Oleana said. Maybe the best thing I can do is to stop disappointing him and disappear.”

Opal regarded him, before she reached over and mussed his hair. “You’re a piece of work, child. A real character. That’s what makes you so interesting! You shouldn’t let anyone steal your spark.”

He smoothed his hair back. “But the chairman--”

“Forget about the chairman. Tell me-- have you ever thought about letting spite fuel you?”

He was taken aback. “Spite?”

“Yes, spite. Instead of running yourself ragged worrying about winning someone back-- someone who, mind you, was a grown adult when he adopted you and whose love should be unconditional if he’s a decent human being-- you should live your life to the fullest so they regret losing you in the first place. You see, my mother used to be the Ballonlea gym leader--”

“Yes, I’m aware.You literally made me study your autobiography upon threat of physical harm.”

“Hush, child, you’re cramping my flow. As I was saying, my mother used to be the Ballonlea gym leader and she fully expected me to follow in her footsteps. But I’d wanted to be an actress, and we got into a row about it on the daily. So when she became too ill to continue running the gym, I did what she wanted and took it over for her-- and turned it into a theater! And when a critic watched our first production and said no one would remember who I was, I made memorizing my biography a requirement of the gym challenge. That’s called living a life fueled by spite!”

“I think… I think I’m actually starting to see the possibilities…” 

“I knew you would,” she said, nodding sagely. “Being a gym leader is all about judging others and making the rest of the world put up with your eccentricities-- I honestly think you’d be perfect for it. That’s why I picked you, after all. Here, I have something for you. I meant to give it to you after you won your first match as a trainer of my gym.”

She handed him a league card. On it was a candid snapshot taken of the two of them during his first rehearsal. “You actually made this into a card?” 

“My rare card, as a matter of fact. And of course I would-- I want the world to know you’re my protege, after all! Though I thought I should obtain your feedback first, of course, as I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opinions on it.”

“I...It’s a good picture,” he said, trying to keep his composure despite the watery blurring of his vision. “Ugh. I’ll never get used to these stupid spores getting in my eyes.” While he wiped at them, Hattren released herself from her pokeball, and demanded to be picked up so she could see the card too.

“Oooowoooo!”

“And it seems Hattrem also likes it, so I suppose this’ll do.” He smiled. “Though don’t think I’ve gotten in the habit of taking freebies. Once I become gym leader, I’ll pay you back with  _ my  _ rare card!”

She smiled back at him. “You’re finally starting to embrace your pink-- though you do need to give that poor challenger a real apology, as that attitude you had during the match was incredibly taupe. But that being said, I think your win warrants one fact about wishing stars. Now, listen carefully.” She leaned closer. “The truth about wishing stars is… they actually make quite a lot of money at the shop. Something like this could easily go for 500,000, maybe 575,000 if you talk to the right guy. That’ll be more than enough to snag two tickets to see the Spikemuth’s Sickest Beats finale at Barboachella.”

“You have my attention.”

  
  


The End. 


End file.
